


Double the love, double the trouble

by Havokftw



Series: Buy one get one free [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Twins, Choking, Competition, Facials, First Kiss, First Time, Footlong subway, Lee Jihoon and Woozi are twins, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Seduction, Shameless Smut, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 15:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13954842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havokftw/pseuds/Havokftw
Summary: Despite all the commotion of the last month, Seungcheol still has no regrets sharing an apartment with the Lee twins because he accepts things could be so much worse. Things were so much worse when he was living with his old housemate who stored bottles of urine (not apple juice) in the fridge, so putting up with a little fraternal bickering is totally manageable in comparison.





	Double the love, double the trouble

**Author's Note:**

> SHAMELESS, SHAMELESS SMUT.  
> Inspired by this lovely fanart.  
> [Awesome art](https://twitter.com/cheolbooty/status/968501190135656457?s=19)
> 
> This was meant to be my Jicheol week day 7 entry, although I can't for the life of me figure out how it would have related to the prompt in any way.

The world is trying its level best to sweep humanity away in a terrible flood.

Or at least that's what it feels like to Seungcheol as he makes his way home in the dark.

The rain is falling so heavy and so fast that he can't see more than a foot in front of him. It's running through the gutters almost ankle deep in rushing streams, and even this far away from the curb he's absolutely soaked.

Lightning briefly outlines the sky overhead in jagged flashes. The echoing grumble of thunder comes roughly six seconds after it. If Seungcheol's very lucky he'll make it home before he's deafened or struck by lightning. Which is a nice, comforting thought.

He's so far beyond wet when he reaches the front door that he's not entirely sure he's going to be able to get his key in the lock. Though that apparently doesn't matter, because he barely has it half raised before the door opens anyway.

Seungcheol squints curiously at Jihoon's narrow frame blocking the doorway between the rivulets of rain water coming out of his hair and eyelashes. Because Seungcheol had thought that opening the door for people was a skill Jihoon hadn't mastered yet. That had always been one of those things _other_ people were for. Primarily Seungcheol himself.

Jihoon's perfectly dry, and judging by his freshly washed black hair, his bare feet and the fact that he's wearing his second favourite Metallica T-shirt, he hasn't even ventured out today. He'd probably spent most of it sprawled artistically on the sofa watching things he hated on TV because he couldn't be bothered to get up and change the channel.

"You're late," Jihoon huffs. Which might— _if stretched a little_ —be Jihoon speak for _'I was worried'_ or it might just as likely be Jihoon speak for _'I need you to reach something on a high shelf.'_

Seungcheol can't really see his watch beneath the mess of water and sleeve, but he thinks it's about nine o'clock.

"Not by much,” Seungcheol argues, then something occurs to him. “Have you….been _waiting_ for me to come home?”

It appears Jihoon _has_ been waiting for him by the door—which suggests Jihoon has missed him dearly and couldn’t wait to see him again, _or_ —he’s had a fight with Woozi again.

Seungcheol weighs the likelihood of both options and decides…

“What did you and Woozi fight about this time?”

Jihoon grunts something that admits to nothing and moves back so Seungcheol can step inside out of the rain.

"Let me guess," Seungcheol says, carefully pushing off his soaking wet jacket and shaking it, hard enough for Jihoon to draw back a step and pull a face. "He drank your last cola.”

“No.”

“He sat in your favourite spot on the couch.” He offers next, because it’s a regular issue.

Jihoon shakes his head. “No.”

Seungcheol purses his lips in thought, then winces. “Did he sit on your head and fart on you again?”

Jihoon frowns. “Don’t remind me.”

Seungcheol shakes his head and hangs up his jacket. “So what _did_ he do?”

Jihoon pouts, he honest-to-god pouts, “He stole my idea.”

Seungcheol smiles warmly and ruffles the top of Jihoon’s hair. “Of course he did.”

He squidges his way into the flat proper. More than aware that he's running water and everything he's wearing is stuck flat to him. Jihoon follows him down the corridor, quietly complaining all the way. When Seungcheol pointedly walks him outside his bedroom door again and then shuts it, he continues his complaining through the wood at a _slightly louder volume._

"It was my idea first!” He whines. “But he said it was his and then he said I was too chicken to go through with it anyway, so I might as well not bother having good ideas."

Seungcheol peels off his jumper and shirt and drops them in a soggy heap, leaving sad dribbles of water everywhere. "How can you be sure it wasn’t his idea all along? Aren’t twins meant to share some sort of telepathy? Maybe he thought of it first and you— _read his mind."_

He can feel Jihoon glaring at him through the door. There's a sigh which doesn't forgive him in the slightest.

" _No_ —it was _my_ idea. When we got drunk last week, I told him about it. But now _he’s_ trying to take credit for it.”

Seungcheol's jeans and boxers come off in a handful of very unpleasant shoves. He really is soaked all the way through. He knew he should’ve grabbed a cab home. “Well—can’t you _share_ the idea? All good ideas should be shared.”

There's a thud and Seungcheol knows Jihoon has just leant back against his door, probably in some sort of dramatic pose that's currently completely wasted on him. “We can’t _share_ this. And you know we’re shit at sharing things. Besides, this idea—it’s not exactly _sharable_. It would be too… _weird_."

"So what do you expect me to do about it?" Seungcheol says at last, digging for a clean t-shirt and failing to find one.

“ _Nothing_. I guess I just wanted you to know it was my idea first before Woozi _ruins_ everything.” Jihoon sounds petulant but Seungcheol thinks there's a sort of honesty there too. Jihoon-speak is sometimes difficult to translate into Korean.

"You know, I'm surprised you left your brother alone with your laptop. He could be doing _anything_."

"That's a hideously transparent ploy to get rid of me," Jihoon complains. "I expect better from you."

Seungcheol's too busy trying to find another pair of jeans to worry about whether he's capable of making Jihoon go and sit with his brother using complex psychology.

Or perhaps reverse psychology.

"Uh huh," he offers instead.

There's silence from the other side of the door - and then the sound of tiny feet pattering down the corridor.

“Woozi you better not have touched my laptop!” Jihoon yells elsewhere in the apartment.

Seungcheol shakes his head and finishes getting changed in peace.

* * *

 

When he's dry and dressed again, he throws his wet clothes in the bathroom and heads to the living room. His hair's going to dry looking absolutely ridiculous and he's pulled out an old t-shirt that's a few sizes too small but he doesn't care.

Jihoon and Woozi are there, now eyeing each other from opposite chairs, like jungle cats trying to decide the best time to go for the throat.

"Who wants pizza?" Seungcheol offers, to break the tension if nothing else.

"Yes," Jihoon says without looking up.

" _Woozi_?" Seungcheol prompts.

Woozi turns far enough to look at him, mouth stretching slowly into a smile. "That would be very nice, Seungcheol, thank you my dear friend. You look nice today—have you done something to your hair?"

“Uh— _really_?” Seungcheol runs a hand though his damp hair in the vain hope of leaving it something that isn't the latest in 'escaped mental patient.'

“Woozi, stop it.” Jihoon snaps before Seungcheol can even begin to formulate a response to Woozi’s uncharacteristic friendliness.

And then Woozi and Jihoon are exchanging one of those weird looks—the kind where Jihoon’s eyes are wide and obviously trying to tell him something, except Woozi doesn’t know what his brother is trying to say. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.

“ _Okay_ —” Seungcheol drawls, dividing a look between them. He pulls out his phone and hits speed-dial. “The usual, yeah? One pepperoni for Jihoonie, and one spicy chicken for Uji?”

“Yes.” The twins answer simultaneously, resuming their glaring from across the room.

* * *

 

When the pizzas arrive, Seungcheol hands the twins each one of their own and takes a seat on the couch.

The second his ass hits the seat the twins are scrambling to sit next to him. There’s a lot of scowling and shoving of pizza boxes and not very much eating of pizza before Seungcheol is forced to sit in the middle, a twin at each side.

“What the fuck is up with you guys today?”

“Nothing.” The twins answer in tandem, opening up their pizza boxes.

Seungcheol manages to wolf down three slices, while the twins glare at each other and nibble through their first bite. He tries not to feel apprehensive. He can feel the twin’s eyes on him, the way he's felt there eyes on him for the past hour—like there's some stubborn, secret purpose waiting in the wings.

“Cheollie.” Woozi begins with a sly smirk, tapping Seungcheol on the shoulder as he’s about to bite into another slice. “You want to swap slices with me? One of mine for one of yours?”

“Yeah, sure.” Seungcheol nods, sliding a slice of his pepperoni on to Woozi’s box as Woozi passes a slice of Spicy Chicken over to his.

“Cheol.” Jihoon interrupts his bite this time, patting his other shoulder. “Do you want to swap with me too?”

Seungcheol blinks at him. “But we both have pepperoni Jihoonie.”

Jihoon’s shoulders slump and his bottom lip sticks out, like he’s devastated Seungcheol won’t swap identical pizza slices with him. There's a faint but audible snicker from Seungcheol's left that suggests Woozi is not so secretly pleased.

“But—we can totally swap anyway.” Seungcheol says quickly. “Yours looks like it has more pepperoni than mine.”

He reaches over to select a slice from Jihoon’s pizza box, breathing a sigh of relief as Jihoon brightens inexplicably.

Seungcheol’s on his last slice when Jihoon stands up and sets his pizza box down on the coffee table.

“I’m going to get a drink—,” Jihoon announces, gaze drifting from Seungcheol to his twin, and back again. “Would you like one Cheol?”

“Sure.” Seungcheol says around a mouthful of pizza.

“Not if I get him one first!” Woozi declares, springing up from his seat and dashing towards the kitchen.

Jihoon follows, hot on his heels. “Stop stealing my ideas!”

With both pizza boxes discarded, Seungcheol helps himself to a few extra slices.

Whatever they’re arguing about—he should probably stay out of it.

* * *

 

One Friday, Seungcheol’s in the kitchen burning his fingers on a bag of microwave popcorn when Woozi slinks up to him.

“Cheollie.” He begins, scuffing his shoe against the tile, “There’s a new restaurant opening in town tonight. I thought we could go check it out.”

“Sounds great,” Seungcheol grins, tipping the popcorn into the large bowl Jihoon’s holding. The shower of popcorn only briefly disguises the scowl on Jihoon’s face. “But—can we order in from there? Cause me and Jihoon are doing stuff tonight.”

Seungcheol watches a flutter of unease pass over Woozi’s face. Jihoon sees it too, and _grins_.

“What stuff?” Woozi murmurs, eyes darting between them.

“Yanno—online. It’s video game night.” Seungcheol says, shaking the bowl of popcorn.

The relief is palpable on Woozi’s face. “Oh— _video games_.” He intones, then raises a brow at his twin. “ _Seriously_? You’re going to have to do better than that. _Nerd_.”

Seungcheol blinks at the non-sequitur and Jihoon pouts over his bowl of popcorn.

“What’s wrong with video games? Cheol _likes_ video games.” Jihoon huffs.

Woozi smiles and flaps his hand at Jihoon’s sulking face. “Yeah, yeah— _whatever_. Have fun.” He says it so patronizingly, Seungcheol’s wearily sure Jihoon is going to throw a punch. But instead, Jihoon just sets down his bowl of popcorn and walks right up to his brother’s face.

“Oh we _will_. Me and _Cheollie_ are going to team up— _together_. Just the two of us, tonight, on the _couch_ , with the lights dimmed. Then we’ll both reach for the bowl of popcorn at the same time and—”

“You know what, that sounds like fun.” Woozi interjects, face suddenly furiously red. “Think I’ll just stay in and play video games with you.” He says, jerking his chin up in challenge.

Jihoon’s grits his teeth. “You can’t! We only have two controllers.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a third controller under the couch somewhere.” Seungcheol offers, not that anybody is listening to him.

He watches the twins narrow their eyes at each other, and there’s a sudden frisson of energy in the air, entirely different than the tension that filled it a few moments ago. Seungcheol feels confusion mix with dread in his stomach. He might have just helped avert one disaster, but another is in the making.

The twins are now nose to nose, glaring at each other from mere inches away.

Seungcheol carefully slides a hand between them, to block their sight of each other. He notes, with no small amount of fondness, they continue to glare _anyway_. He can almost feel the heat of their glares against his palm.

“How about,” He begins in a placating tone. “Woozi fishes the controller from under the couch, Jihoon finishes prepping the snacks, and I go get us food from this new restaurant?” He says cautiously. Just in case he's outvoted. That happens a lot.

Jihoon huffs through his nose, and squints at him. “Fine by me.”

Woozi rolls his head sideways and makes a completely incomprehensible noise in his general direction. “Sounds like fun.”

 

* * *

 

This competitive trend continues unabated, and quickly becomes something Seungcheol can't just shrug off and pretend away. Not when he’s being pulled in two separate directions at the same time by brothers vying for his attention.

Jihoon wants Seungcheol to play video games with him and watch movies, while Woozi wants his company to go shopping and attend concerts. Seungcheol will happily do all those things—he just can’t do them at the _same fucking time._

Seriously, Seungcheol’s starting to feel like some sort of time share holiday home in the south of France.

He comes to expect being accosted by the twins as the norm, even while the reason for all this possessiveness continues to be something neither Jihoon or Woozi want to discuss.

There's an elephant in the room, and it's huge and neon and dancing in circles singing, ' _Look at me, look at me, look at me_.' Seungcheol honestly doesn't know how long they can continue pretending the problem away.

* * *

 

Seungcheol’s got seven hundred good words going on his report, and he hopes to keep the momentum going while the ideas are fresh.

He’s has mostly managed to tune out the sound of Jihoon and Woozi bickering. It's not exactly new and he knows that involving himself in the conversation won't help at all. He knows that much.

As long as nothing's on fire or melting when they're finished it counts as a good day. After all, it's not like they're going to come to blows – they’re more likely to seek vengeance by more petty, underhanded means (tampering with each other’s phones, hiding the remote and or replacing the other’s Coca-Cola with some cheap, generic brand.)

Despite all the commotion of the last month, Seungcheol still has no regrets sharing an apartment with the Lee twins because he accepts things could be so much worse. Things _were_ so much worse when he was living with his old housemate who stored bottles of _urine_ (not apple juice) in the fridge, so putting up with a little fraternal bickering is totally manageable in comparison.

Manageable as long as _he_ doesn’t get involved. No one should get between those two, they'd be crushed within seconds, like atoms in a Supercollider. Which doesn't sound like fun at all. Not even a little. Not even for  _science_.

“I don’t care if it was your idea first. It doesn’t mean you get to go through with it.” Woozi snipes.

“Yes, it does. I called dibs.” Jihoon huffs.

“No, you didn’t!”

Seungcheol stares at his laptop instead and pretends their quiet sniping and their (not even veiled any more, really) insults are background noise.

 _Seungcheol_ ," Jihoon says, strident, wheedling. “Tell Woozi to shut up.”

Seungcheol's actually glad he wasn't paying attention.

"I don’t want to hear about it. You’re two grown men and you fight over the dumbest of things. You’ve had 23 years living together, and if you can’t learn to share with each other than maybe you shouldn’t have—whatever it is you’re fighting about.” He says firmly.

He attempts to look very busy in the hopes that they'll forget about him again.

It's all gone suspiciously quiet though—so he risks looking up.

Jihoon and Woozi still seem to be fighting. Which is ridiculous, because they aren't talking, or even looking at each other now. No, they're looking at _him_ instead with furrowed brows and sulky faces. He frowns and wonders if he should be worried—then promptly worries anyway.

"What?" he demands, when he can't take it anymore.

"Ok," Woozi says quietly.

It's only one word but Jihoon turns his head toward his brother, looks briefly confused, as if Woozi has just rattled off some sort of complicated mathematical formula.  

But then Woozi raises an eyebrow in Seungcheol's direction, focused, questioning, half a dozen things Seungcheol can't even hope to understand. Whatever shows on his own face is apparently incriminating because Jihoon blinks like he's genuinely surprised at whatever he finds.

“You heard what Cheollie said—he wants us to _share_ or we can’t have what we want at all.” Woozi says.

There’s a sharper edge to his voice now, though. Something calculating and a little bit warm. There’s a glint in his eyes that, as Seungcheol looks back and forth between them, looks almost like a challenge.

Seungcheol barely has time to worry about exactly what this challenge entails before Jihoon's eyes slide briefly sideways, then he sighs. "Fine, we can take turns." he says to Woozi, which is utterly bewildering.

Seungcheol watches them now, his gaze flicking between them as they turn around and leave the room.

Well—whatever _that_ was about, he guesses it’s over now.

* * *

 

Seungcheol has managed to edit a single sentence in his report when the twins come padding back into the room. He looks up from the screen briefly—then he promptly jerks his head back in surprise.

Oh  _Christ._

The twins are standing less than a foot away from him, and they’re—they’re….

Seungcheol drags a startled breath and nearly chokes on it when it rattles through his completely dry throat.

 _“_ I knew he’d like them.” Woozi says, mouth twisted in a smile Seungcheol can only describe as _smug_.

Seungcheol can't keep his eyes from wandering to where they _probably_ shouldn’t be wondering. But there’s just so much to look at, because the twins are almost naked.

Almost.

They might as well be, honestly.

Jihoon’s wearing blue and white stripped stockings to match his pretty boy thong, while Woozi has opted for floral patterned stockings with a black satin trim to match his black panties. Their skin is pale and flawless, smooth and perfect, and when they both tilt their hips deliberately—inviting, _coaxing_ —Seungcheol goes quickly from burgeoning erection to harder than he can stand, faster than he's experienced in years.

“Why—What—Guys?”

His jeans are suddenly far too tight - all hope of accomplishing work-related tasks completely gone. His open laptop hits the floor with a crack. A sound the both of them _ignore_ in favour of playing rock-paper-scissors.

“Yes!” Woozi fist pumps the air victoriously as his rock crushes Jihoon’s choice of scissors.

Seungcheol's expecting some sort of angry protest. Jihoon angrily protests everything, doubly so when it comes to Woozi. Though only Woozi gets that special dramatic air of petulance that sibling rivalry seems to bring out in everyone.

Instead, Jihoon just sighs and crosses his arms. “Fine—have fun.” He looks downcast until Woozi’s hand lifts, fingers sliding up the sharp edge of Jihoon's jaw, easing him round to face him.

“Don’t sulk. You’ll get your turn next. Unless I _exhaust_ him first.” Woozi purrs.

Seungcheol inhales and goes still.

He manages to push himself to his feet, feeling like an odd sort of observer to some sort of strange science.

"Okay, what the _hell_ are you guys talking about?" he manages over the hammering of his own pulse.

They both turn to look at him, gazes so predatory he feels like he should make a strategic retreat to his bedroom. He might even make it, he thinks he has _just_ enough blood left in his legs to make them work. (Though there’s a quiet part of his brain telling him they're both going to either _follow_ him or _stop_ him from leaving.)

“We’re talking about _you_ —and who gets to ride your dick first.” Woozi answers. Simple. Direct. Impudent. 

Seungcheol's pretty sure he should be doing a little less arm flailing and a little more talking here, but he's a little too floored to manage even that.

“Oh—Jesus.” Seungcheol gets out. Which isn't a no, it's something, but it isn't a no.

He can't process this. This is too much, this is _insane_.

They've been fighting a subtle war over his time for weeks now, and suddenly _this_ is an acceptable compromise?

"This whole time—you’ve been fighting over who gets to _ride_ me?" Seungcheol stalls, relieved at least that he managed to find his voice.

Woozi's expression shifts to cautious concern, and he cocks his head consideringly to one side. “You suggested we share—so this is us _sharing_. Unless you have a second dick we don’t know about somewhere?” He says, watching him intently.

“Or a twin?” Jihoon asks, almost hopefully.

Seungcheol coughs. Takes a deep breath. He tries to quiet his racing pulse by force of will and is only marginally successful.

“I—I don’t have a twin. Or an extra dick.” He can’t believe he needs to clarify either of these points.

“Well—I guess we just have to _share_.” Woozi makes it sound like a dirty word.

Seungcheol’s brain can't quite wrap around that. His dick is considerably faster on the uptake however, straining painfully against his zipper.

“We never talked about this. Don’t you think I should have been involved in this conversation at some point? What if I’m not interested? What if I’m _seeing_ someone?” Seungcheol says, making sure his tone sounds incredibly authoritative.

The twins recoil in surprise and look away, guilty and caught-out. They have matching expressions of shame, and now Seungcheol feels guilty as hell.

“Don’t—don’t pull those faces.” Seungcheol groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know I can’t handle it when you pull the lost kitten look on me.”

Then a different look crosses the twin’s faces, curiosity and determination in equal parts.

“ _Are_ you seeing someone?” Woozi asks, a probing glint in his eyes. 

“No.” Seungcheol answers plainly.

Then Jihoon steps closer—close enough to drop his voice to a private murmur—and asks, “Don’t you want to? Have you never considered the possibility?”

Seungcheol flinches. Despite Jihoon's tone—cautious, gentle, reverent—the question feels like an accusation. But he doesn't say no. He knows lying will accomplish nothing.

Seungcheol’s breath gusts out of him in a pained laugh, dry and rough, and he shakes his head.

“That’s not the point. The point is—” Seungcheol hesitates because—he doesn’t know _why_ he’s arguing here.

He’s got two, extremely willing, undeniably hot guys fighting over his dick and if anyone should be cock-clocking him now—it certainly shouldn’t be _himself_. And if he’s being honest, he _has_ thought about it— _a lot._

Who _wouldn’t_ when you live with two gorgeous twins.

But before it was just a fantasy inside his head that he could jerk off to. He never imagined it could be a _reality_ where Jihoon and Woozi would be buying pretty underwear to seduce him and debating who would get to bounce on his dick first. He can't help picturing that. The two of them somewhere discussing the mechanics of this new, potentially explosive twist to their arrangement. In excruciating detail. They probably drew diagrams. _Jesus_.

The twins seem to sense his turmoil, if the quiet understanding softening their features is anything to go by.

“We know it seems a _little_ out of the blue,” Woozi says, setting a hand on Seungcheol's arm to call his attention back. “But we’ve been thinking about it for a while. One day, we realised you were the perfect boyfriend for us and we each kept it to ourselves because we didn’t want to make our living arrangement weird.”

“Unfortunately, we figured it out at the same time.” Jihoon pipes in quietly. “And then we confided in each other about it, and now we both want you.”

“W-why?” Seungcheol’s voice breaks.

He already feels a low tremble in his gut telling him this could end badly.

But there's a glint of mischief in the twin’s eyes, and a piercing intensity in their gaze, and Seungcheol knows he's going to agree to whatever they want, even before Jihoon reaches out and squeezes his shoulder in a reassuring grip.

“Because we love you, Cheol.” Jihoon says with quiet emphasis. “You’re really sweet to both of us.”

“And you’re fucking hot.” Woozi interjects.

Jihoon nods agreeably, then cups his cheek. “You’re the only one who puts up with our crap.”

“And the only one who treats us like individuals.” Woozi adds, stroking his jaw in one long ticklish stroke of movement.

And then they're both touching him, Jihoon's palms gentle and firm, Woozi's fingers ticklish and light. Their hands meet somewhere on Seungcheol's waist, warm fingers spreading, briefly tangling, and then sliding down to coast over the hard line of his cock.

Seungcheol can’t find a word to speak. They both know how to play him far too well.

Jihoon tucks his head under Seungcheol's chin—nuzzles his cheek along Seungcheol's jaw and says, “You do lots of nice things for us. Even when we don’t ask for it.”

“And you’re hot.” Woozi repeats, getting in on the snuggling action too.

“You said that already.” Jihoon says dryly, and Woozi levels a glare at him.

“Yeah, _well_ —It’s a fucking valid point that should be emphasized.” He spits back.

For a moment Seungcheol thinks they might start up another argument and forget about him completely. But they’re proclivity for starting something over nothing seems to have evaporated with a shared goal in site: _Seungcheol_.

They surround him like bookends and murmur filthy things in his ear—things that they're going to do to him, things they're going to make him do. It makes Seungcheol's head buzz with ashamed anticipation, and his skin goes hot and flushed.

Woozi does most of the talking. Jihoon is busy kissing a heated trail along Seungcheol's throat, bestowing teasing bites just below his jaw, and the way they're both touching him is so intimate—so purposeful—that Seungcheol can't quite remember how to breathe.

“Whaddya say Cheollie?” Woozi purrs, as Jihoon squeezes the muscles in his neck and whispers, “You’re the only one who can handle both of us.” It’s half a dare, half reassurance.

Whether it’s their words, or Seungcheol’s own damn possessiveness over them, or something else entirely, Seungcheol doesn’t know. But the twins share a grin when Seungcheol nods and surrenders himself to whatever they have in store for him.

There are two sets of hands on him, both of them bossy and commanding, but somehow it doesn’t feel like a contest as Jihoon kisses him and then Woozi does the same—as Jihoon works on his belt buckle, while Woozi helps divest him of his shirt—as Jihoon palms his dick and Woozi pinches his nipple—as someone sucks bruises into his throat, and someone ruts against his thigh, and someone’s fingers curl around the waistband of his boxers and tugs them down.

When Seungcheol’s boxers pool to the floor and he kicks them of, he sees the look they share; for all their bickering, they share some basic telepathy. Not that they’d ever admit it.

“Oh my god.” Jihoon says quietly.

“I told you it was _huge_.” Woozi says archly.

Jihoon bites his knuckle, eyes dropping meaningfully to Seungcheol’s cock. “It’s like two dicks in one. It was _made_ for us.”

“It’s not that great.” Seungcheol says with a shrug, because he’s sure anymore compliments and his dick may just develop a mind of its own and start campaigning for Presidency or something.

The twins smile up at him fondly, then have a brief silent conversation - which Jihoon apparently wins, because Woozi slowly, reluctantly, agrees. It's in the faint, stiff twitch of his jaw.

Jihoon rises on his tiptoes to kiss Seungcheol again, then drops on his knees in front of him.

“Hey—what--" Seungcheol can’t offer much more coherency because Jihoon’s pretty fingers are wrapping around his shaft, and his tongue is curling and clamping on and it’s so hot and tight and Jihoon looks so...

“Oh—fuck.” Seungcheol inhales and jerks. A long hiss falling out of him.

“Hmm, so _big_.” Jihoon moans, voice vibrating through Seungcheol’s dick in a way that’s hard not to be distracted by.

Almost as distracting are Woozi's hands, moving restlessly over Seungcheol's body like he's trying to press ownership into every inch of Seungcheol's skin.

Until Woozi squeezed his ass, Seungcheol wasn’t sure the pink haired twin planned to participate. They hadn’t exactly assigned roles, and Seungcheol figured Woozi just wanted to watch.

But he should know better. Of course Woozi’s not going to sit back and keep to himself while his twin takes care of Seungcheol’s dick.

The pink haired twin begins licking a path down Seungcheol’s spine, then grabbing his ass in both hands and kneading roughly in a way that seems designed solely to destroy all coherent thought. Seungcheol suspects he's going to need at least a little of that to handle what the Lee Twins have planned for him, but it doesn't stop him from grinding back, instinctively, when Woozi rubs his dick almost lazily between his cheeks.

“Hmm—you like that huh?” Woozi mumbles into his shoulder. He slinks out from behind Seungcheol to plaster himself to his side, gripping his chin firmly. “I thought a big boy like you would want us both on all fours, asses in the air. It’s nice to know you’re open to a little _experimentation_.”

Seungcheol turns his gaze meaningfully from Woozi down to where Jihoon’s lips are wrapped in an obscene circle around his cock, and then back. “I think I’ve proven I’m plenty experimental Uji.”

Woozi smirks, and one hand finally settles low on Seungcheol's spine. The other comes to rest at Seungcheol's neck and tugs him closer for a kiss. Woozi starts jerking himself off while Seungcheol uses his twins mouth, hips working now in uncertain but intent shoves.

When Woozi pulls back for air, Seungcheol's eyes are barely focused, but he startles at the look he finds on the pink haired twin’s face.

Woozi is  _smiling_ , one corner of his mouth tugging upwards in an expression that looks downright mischievous. His eyes dart down to where Jihoon is pressing kisses to the crown of Seungcheol’s cock, and all it takes is one tilt, a raised eyebrow, a noise that's briefly considering before his hand slides around the back of Jihoon's neck and his fingers dig and press in his hair.

Seungcheol has just enough time to think Woozi absolutely  _won't_  do what he thinks he's going to do.

But then he _does_.

There's hunger in the hard push against the back of Jihoon neck, and the soft, low noise of appreciation when Jihoon does as he's told, goes where he's pushed.

Seungcheol’s stomach tightens sharply with desire, and he groans, low and helpless as his cock hits the back of Jihoon’s throat. Jihoon's breathing hard through his nose, fingers sliding on Seungcheol's thighs. Trying to hold himself there, trying not to choke.

It’s too much, and Seungcheol reacts to Jihoon's soft, hitched groan of discomfort. To the vibration around the weight of his cock. He pulls back, slides his cock free just long enough for Jihoon to draw a shuddering breath of air.

Woozi has one eyebrow raised, like he's mentally rating his brother's performance and that's about as much as Seungcheol can take.

“Don’t do that again. I could have hurt him.” He orders. The sound of his own voice surprises him, ragged and full of gravel.

Woozi looks remorseful for just a second, then quirks an amused brow at him, “But he wants it. He wants you to fuck his mouth, he’s just too shy to ask.”

The words are clearly meant for Seungcheol's ears, but he sees the shiver they elicit in Jihoon.

Seungcheol reaches for Jihoon with one hand, carding his fingers through his hair before letting his touch drift lower—cupping Jihoon's chin and pressing his thumb meaningfully against his reddened lower lip.

Jihoon's mouth opens obediently, and Seungcheol presses his thumb inside. He watches rapt as Jihoon's lips close around him, cheeks hollowing as he sucks on the offered digit, and Seungcheol can't look away.

"You liked that?" He hears himself ask. The question feels gruff and unsteady. It doesn't sound like him.

Jihoon nods, watching him, expression wide and trusting and expectant. He’s blushing too, Seungcheol realizes. Or maybe Seungcheol's just perceiving the world a little too intensely right now. It's hard to tell, especially when his brain is busy tripping over the explicit go-ahead Jihoon just gave him.

Seungcheol’s dick is impatient, curved high against his stomach but he still pauses there, blinking and breathless. He pulls his hand away from Jihoon's mouth, trailing his spit-slick thumb over the inviting swell of Jihoon's lower lip.

"Open," he says anyway.

Jihoon instantly complies, and Seungcheol guides himself deeper into his mouth. He groans aloud at the wet, mind-crashing heat sliding along his cock. His hand slips to the back of Jihoon's head—tightens in his hair—and Jihoon makes a low, eager sound in his throat as Seungcheol's hips stutter forward and drive his cock further into Jihoon's mouth.

"Give him more," Woozi interjects, rutting excitedly against Seungcheol’s thigh.

" _Fuck_ ," Seungcheol breathes, even as he curves his grip around the base of Jihoon's skull and holds tighter still. He doesn't let himself over-think. He thrusts forward in a single, smooth motion and groans when Jihoon simply opens his throat and swallows.

Seungcheol doesn't stop until he feels the press of Jihoon's nose against his belly, the ripple of sensation that comes from Jihoon's throat working around his cock, struggling to accommodate the length and girth.

Seungcheol shifts, braces himself to draw back, but Woozi's voice stops him short.

"Don't," Woozi says, pushing fingers into his twin’s hair and holding him steady. "Stay there. He loves it."

"Jesus," Seungcheol breathes. Holding still this way might be the hardest thing he's ever done.

But he does it. He waits. He fights back the threatening crest of his orgasm—knows damn well it's not yet time—and his breath turns shocky, dragging harshly in with the minutest movements of Jihoon's mouth and throat.

Jihoon doesn't try to pull away—ineffectual though any such effort would be, between Seungcheol’s grip restraining his head and Woozi's hand still forceful in his hair—but he begins to tremble, softly at first, then harder as the seconds drag further and further out.

Seungcheol doesn't even realize what he's waiting for until finally Woozi says, "Now."

When Seungcheol draws back, he doesn't pull all the way out. Somehow, with nothing more than a glance at Woozi, he knows that's not what he should do. But he pulls far enough back that barely more than the head of his cock is filling Jihoon's mouth, and Jihoon's eyes—closed a moment before—open and find Seungcheol, lock onto him with a burning intensity as Jihoon takes the opportunity to breathe.

"Again," Woozi murmurs, and Seungcheol thrusts forward.

It's not enough time, Seungcheol thinks.

Jihoon is unprepared for the sudden force of the cock ramming down his throat, cutting off all air once more. Choking him this time, earning a jerking gag as Jihoon struggles to adjust.

 _Now_  there are tears in Jihoon's eyes. In the next instant wet tracks slick down his cheeks, and  _oh_ , how the sight makes Seungcheol  _burn_.

"So good for me," Seungcheol says even as Jihoon fights to settle down and  _take_  what Seungcheol is giving him. "My sweet Jihoonie."

Jihoon’s eyes flutter involuntarily closed at the praise. So fucking shy, even with a dick down his throat.

Woozi is not so shy as his brother. He is greedy and not at all afraid to demand. To thread fingers through Jihoon’s hair and push, and he seems ever more amused when Jihoon doesn’t whine or turn his head away.

With Woozi’s fist anchored in his twin’s hair, he encourages Jihoon to go faster, to take Seungcheol deeper with one messy shove after another that leaves Jihoon with tears in his eyes, groaning helplessly and making wet, obscene noises as he tries to take more with each thrust.

Jihoon’s fingers wrapped around the base of Seungcheol’s cock fall away- until it's just the heat of his mouth and the tight suction of his lips. He still doesn’t protest—doesn’t do anything but relax his jaw and take it as Woozi holds him in place and Seungcheol fucks his mouth deeper.

Woozi stops them before Seungcheol can come, fingers catching in Jihoon’s hair, drawing him off and back to a kneeling position. Seungcheol's not sure how the guy _knows_ , but his interruption is perfect, gives Seungcheol just enough time to hold himself back.

“Can I play too?” Woozi asks his twin. It's a lazy curious question.

“Yeah.” Jihoon says, his voice is a throaty growl that sounds like a living thing.

Then Woozi moves, dropping to his knees on the floor next to his twin, who seems more than happy to scoot over.

Seungcheol's breath lodges raggedly in his chest at the sight. They’re _sharing_.

Yeah, okay—it’s his dick. But still—they’re _sharing_.

He’s weirdly, and inappropriately proud.

Woozi is the first to reach forward, grabbing Seungcheol at the base and stroking a few times before suctioning his lips over the head. Seungcheol lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest.

He reaches out and runs his fingers along Woozi's head encouragingly, then looks at Jihoon. Jihoon isn’t watching him at all—but watching his twin and weathering his lower lip.

After a moment he leans in too, and Woozi moves around to lap at the side of Seungcheol's shaft, making room for them both.

Seungcheol’s breath hitches in those few seconds when Jihoon's mouth finally joins Woozi’s, and his lips latch on to the opposite side of Seungcheol's cock.

 _Fuck_ —this is something else.

Everything is wet.

Or at least, that's what it feels like to Seungcheol, whose world has been narrowed down to the two guys sucking his cock.  

It’s an odd, and very new feeling, having two sets of lips and tongues working on him. Seungcheol sighs and closes his eyes, overawed at how incredible it looks or that it’s happening at all.

Woozi seems particularly fond of Seungcheol's foreskin, and when he looks down next, Woozi has tugged it between his lips and is gently sucking. While Jihoon seems to enjoy everything about the sheer size, and he hums approvingly as he licks and sucks along Seungcheol’s length, eyes closed.

It’s not long before they become sloppy and uncoordinated, tongues slipping over each other as they both focus their attention on the leaking tip. They take turns lapping at the salty fluid that gathers there, their mouths shine wet, never empty for long until they both try and suck the tip into their mouths at the same time and end up _compromising_.

Seungcheol’s hips jerk reflexively, aroused beyond belief at the sight of the twins practically kissing, with the sensitive head of his prick in the middle.

" _Fuck_ ," he hisses, barely holding on.

He's more than a little ashamed of his own reaction. Because he didn't think he was the sort of person to encourage _this_ but Woozi and Jihoon don't just break the rules, they set the pieces on fire. Leave the remains unrecognisable. This is insane, it's insane and so very, very wrong and he can't quite get enough air with them doing that, still doing— _fuck._

“Is this good?” Jihoon asks.

“Do you like this?” Woozi chimes in too.

The intent way they’re looking at him is possibly one of the hottest things Seungcheol’s seen. Seungcheol watches them back through half-open eyes, breath heavy with desire and listens to the thud of his own heartbeat. 

“Yeah.” Seungcheol sighs, reaching out to pet their heads. “I love it—you’re both amazing.”

That’s when the twins move in tandem: Woozi starts bobbing his head up and down Seungcheol's entire length, cheeks hallowing as he sucks; Jihoon has moved lower to lap at the juncture of his thigh, right next to his balls.

Seungcheol is fairly certain he's never seen Woozi look so satisfied, _ever_. No one should be able to look smug while deepthroating cock but Woozi manages it. The fact that he's doing it while his twin watches, has stolen all rational thought from Seungcheol.

He can hear himself breathing, every hot, quick rush of it. “You’ll both be the death of me.”

Woozi hums in agreement—or at least he tries to—and though he makes no sound, the fluttering of muscle sends such pleasant sensations along Seungcheol's dick that it's all he can do  _not_  to thrust his hips in harder.

As if his sensory overload isn't already reaching a critical point, Seungcheol notices that each twin has a hand shoved down the back of their underwear, expertly fingering themselves.

That’s it, he’s done for.

He makes a strangled sound and tugs Woozi off his dick. The Lee twins catch on quickly and shift their positions. They nestle close together, cheek to cheek, mouths open in eager anticipation.

“I want a taste.”

“Me too.”

Seungcheol groans and strokes his saliva-slicked shaft firmly, furiously, eyes glued to the twin’s faces, wanting nothing more than to make a mess of them, and holy fuck, they look so blissful, waiting for it.

And as much as Seungcheol wants to slam his eyes shut — he’s so hard and it’s been so long — he _has_ to watch, even as his body shudders in tense, hard jerks and ropes of thick white come streak Woozi’s cheeks, across the bridge of Jihoon nose, up Woozi’s temple and into Jihoon’s hair.

Their mouths are open and they’re craning for it, both leaning forward to take the last weak spurts and licking at their bottom lips to taste the drips there. Without thinking, Seungcheol helpfully reaches down and scoops up a long streak from Woozi’s chin and pushes his finger into Jihoon’s mouth. Jihoon immediately seals his lips around the digit and hums appreciatively.

Seungcheol swears, audibly, shakily, and there's no hope at all of hiding the sheer amount of shocked  _want_  in his voice.

He’d do anything for them, absolutely anything. And they’re both staring up at him from under cum slicked lashes, like they would too, no hesitation.

Seungcheol accepts he’s probably going to hell, but— _hey_ —at least he’ll have company.

 

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Poor Seungcheol (or not-depends how you look at it)  
> 2) Yes, as you see this is going to be a series because I have not actually got around to writing them fricking yet. And there is a lot of potential there. And I was also hoping to use the series to finally write my Cheol+Scoups twins vs Jihoon fic. So...yeah.  
> 3) I hope this was somewhat okay to read??  
> Feedback always appreciated.


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